The Window


Rishi looked out of the office window. That’s where he spent his free time. He never understood what the big fuss over sports was anyways. He stayed there, reading and dreaming, till Papa came to pick him up.

Books were his friends. He needed no one else. Tomorrow he would be gone from here forever. Papa was being transferred. He dreaded the thought of a new school again.

“Come child, your father is here”, he heard Sister Antonia behind him.

Rishi took his crutches and looked out his favorite window for one last time.

“Goodbye Sister”, he said.

This is written as part of the Friday Fictioneers Challenge – Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. Today’s prompt is the above picture.

Hope you enjoyed.


Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge: Treasure


Sometimes it is the little things we like to treasure. Especially when we have kids. We want to freeze memories in time, treasure their little hands and feet. But little hands and feet grow up too soon. So we treasure a few things those little hands made.

TreasureIf you ask me what I treasure most, it is the people in my life. And sometimes, a few things those people made, I will cherish forever.

This photo is for the weekly photo challenge at The Daily Post. As you would’ve guessed, the theme is Treasure.

Tell me, do you relate to this sentiment?

An Alien Abroad


matchbox__jeep_hurricane_concept-640x420Dubaku woke up all sweaty. Was it a nightmare? The silence terrified him. He was not used to it. Back home, the still night air was punctured by the sounds of gunfire and terrified screams.

He got out of bed. His feet sank into the soft “carpet”. He had learnt the word from Claire. Her house was covered in it. It felt like walking on a cloud.

Dubaku stretched his back. He couldn’t believe it, but he found that he missed the packed mud floor he was used to lying on. This large, soft rectangle in this new place felt like heaven at first. But he had tossed and turned all night.

The silence still bothered him. Like the calm before a storm. Or right before the Kwazai men raided his village on some nights. He did not want to think about that now.

There was something he wanted. Ah yes, water. He made his way to the kitchen downstairs. This house had so many rooms. Claire had left the hallway lights on. She knew he was scared.

In the kitchen, he halted and looked around. The stove and refrigerator loomed like big, steel giants in the dim light. He had never seen them before in his life. He still couldn’t say the word “refrigerator” correctly. That was where the water was.

He had never had such clean water before in his life. He didn’t know that water was colorless. Back home, it was brown. Sometimes red. But he didn’t want to think about that now.

He opened the refrigerator and let the frigid air envelop him. What was this thing? Was it a tree? A river? Or God? How did it have so much food and water inside it?

He took the bottle of water in his hands and opened it. He brought it to his lips, but couldn’t  drink it. He thought of his little sisters back home, the youngest had died after going without food and water for a week. His little heart filled with a sudden sadness.

Something on the floor caught his eye. It was Max’s “toy”. A smooth, red thing that Max stuck on the refrigerator. Dubaku forgot what it was called. Then he remembered, Max had a lot of things in the other big room. He made his way there in the dim light and found Max’s trucks. Some of them looked just like the one’s the Kwazai men used. Max had called them “Jeeps”. Dubaku picked up a shiny green one. He sat down on the carpet and played with it.

My entry for the daily prompt at The Poetry Question. Today’s prompt was – “An Alien Abroad” (Take a tour of your house through the eyes of a person who has never seen anything like it.)

Hope you enjoyed.